Lasting Impressions
by aquember
Summary: Betrayal cuts deeper than any knife, and the scars from the wounds never truly go away. Implied Thuke, rated T just to be safe.


**Lasting Impressions**

~*~

Scars.

Thalia had enough of them to last her a lifetime.

The Hunter sat alone in the woods, surrounded by the silent forms of the firs standing sentry around her; cold wood instead of the usual warm flesh and bone of her sisters, just out of sight instead of by her side. The bright glow of the silvery orb in the sky pierced through the boughs of the trees and bathed the young woman in light that bleached her skin to an icy paleness and gave her spiky black hair an unnatural blue sheen.

Thalia exhaled slowly and stretched, basking in the cold light of the moon much like a cat does in the sun. Even though it was still late January, she was wearing nothing but a blue-gray tank and black shorts.

_That's one of the perks of being immortal_, she thought sullenly to herself as she scrutinized the subtle silvery aura that shimmered above her skin ever since she had taken the oath to become Artemis's lieutenant. _You don't have to worry about dying of cold_. She looked at her arm angrily and dropped it to her side. Despite what she had said to Percy at the winter solstice barely a month before, being a Hunter had not have been her first choice. When she had told him that the Hunt felt like a home, she hadn't been lying, but still she wished there was a way she could've turned sixteen and not be the child of the prophecy. She sighed resignedly and rested her head on her knees. She did love being a Hunter. Even though it had been such a short time since she joined, she already thought of the others as her family.

Absently, she rubbed a raised bump on her elbow that she didn't remember having before. She lifted her head and craned her neck to examine it. The soft glow emanating from her skin in addition to the illumination from the moon threw the markings of that scar and others into sharp relief. She glared at the faint white lines that patterned her limbs and looked away in disgust. All of them were marks from old wounds, long healed over, most of their unique stories forgotten, yet a whisper of the pain each had caused still lingered as she looked at them. Sighing, she turned her head to examine a newer slice across her upper arm that she had gotten at the fight at Mount Tam. The cut was shallow, little more than a scrape, really. Just a new addition to her already vast collection of battle wounds. She snorted softly. Luke never could beat her at hand to hand combat.

Even though no one was with her to judge her reaction, Thalia's expression hardened at the thought.

Luke.

He was still alive, she had heard. He shouldn't be. That fall, that fall that she had initiated, that fall was too high for anyone to survive. He should be dead. Things would be better if he was dead.

_But you're glad he isn't_, a little voice in the back of her mind insisted. _You're happy that he survived. _

Thalia hastily squashed that little voice.

_Luke deserved to die_, she thought viciously to herself. _He was a traitor. He betrayed the Gods, he betrayed the campers._

Angrily she sunk one of the hunting knives she was never without into the ground beside her and looked at it miserably.

_He betrayed _me_._

She had loved him, all those years ago. She had loved him enough to sacrifice herself so he could live and make it into camp. And how did he repay her? He poisoned her and turned against the camp she had spent years protecting for him, because of him.

Thalia became aware that she was still grasping the hilt of the knife. Slowly, she unclenched her fingers and stared at the solitary white line that crossed her right palm. She remembered the story behind that scar clear as day, especially since she had just been thinking about one of its major characters.

**

It had been sometime after she had teamed up with Luke, but before they had met Annabeth. They had been wandering around together for about half a year, and despite initial misgivings, they had learned to trust one another. Back then, Thalia had known she would never feel scared as long as Luke was with her.

They had been in eastern Pennsylvania at the time, getting ready to camp out in the woods after another day of aimless wandering, not really caring about where they were going but happy enough to have each other's company. She had just been gathering wood for a fire when she hadn't watched where she was going and had stumbled into a small ditch. The ditch itself was shallow enough, but it was getting dark and the only flashlight was with Luke back at the site they had decided on for camp. After about ten minutes of trying, and failing, to get out on her own, Thalia had still not been eager to give up, but she had been forced to when she heard Luke calling her name and saw the telltale flicker or the flashlight beam. Grudgingly, she had called back, until there he was, looking down on her and shining the flashlight beam in her face.

"There you are," he had grinned. "Need a little help?"

"No." Thalia had snapped, even though inside she was glad he was there. "I can get out by myself."

"Okay then," Luke had stood up and moved as if to leave. "Guess you don't need me."

"Wait!" Thalia had yelled after he began walking away. He had stopped and turned to face her again, a mischievous, lopsided grin on his face.

"Yes?"

"I might need _some_ help getting out," Thalia muttered reluctantly. Luke put on a pensive face and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Okay," he had told her, his eyes dancing, "I'll help you. On one condition."

"Luke," she complained, "I don't have time for your games. Just help me out already!"

"Say please."

"What?"

"I said, you have to say please." The blond boy looked at her with a wicked grin. "I'm the older one here and it's time you started showing me some respect." Thalia rolled her eyes.

"With an attitude like that? Forget it."

"Have fun spending the night in this lovely ditch then," he had teased, "I'm off to my sleeping bag back at camp."

"Fine!" she had snapped, and he stopped talking and looked at her expectantly.

They stared at each other in silence, until Luke prompted, "Well?"

"Please help me get out," muttered Thalia.

"Louder, please." Luke seemed to be enjoying himself as he sat back on his haunches.

"What?" Thalia's temper flared. "I already said it once."

"Well, then say it again, but louder."

"Ugh!" Thalia turned away, then whirled around again to viciously jab her finger in his direction. "You're so infuriating sometimes. Just help me up!"

"Not until you say it again."

"Fine!" she yelled. "Will you please help me out of this ditch?" Luke's grin seemed to stretch all the way across his face.

"There," he said, satisfied, "why couldn't you have done that to start with?" He reached his hand to Thalia, who had to resist the temptation to take it and yank him into the ditch with her. For one, he would probably be able to get out on his own anyway, and for another, it would probably come back to bite her in the butt if she ever needed his help again.

Thankfully, she grasped his hand and he pulled her out to stand next to him.

"Thanks," she told him sincerely, "even if you did make that much more obnoxious then necessary."

He smiled and slung an arm around her shoulder.

"You know I'll always help you out, Thalia," he said seriously, his smile fading.

"If you don't cause me to kill you first," she grinned cheekily, and ducked out from under his arm. All the joking seemed to run out of Luke as he looked at her.

"I'm serious," he had said quietly, and Thalia had been taken aback by the sudden change in his manner. "I'll always be here for you."

"Luke, I know." She searched his eyes for what could have made him so serious so fast. "And I'll always be there for you." He shook his head sadly.

"Do you mean it?"

"What?" Thalia had been slightly hurt that he didn't seem to trust her. "Of course I mean it."

"Would you be willing to swear on it?"

"What?" Thalia stared at him. "Swear on it? What do you mean? Are you okay?" Thalia had worriedly pressed her hand to his forehead. "I hope you're not sick…"

"I'm not sick," he said, and his blue eyes had bored into her own. "It's just that…both our real families never really did anything for us, and I want you to always know that you'll always have me."

"But Luke, I know that already."

"Knowing isn't enough!" Thalia stepped back at his intensity, and his voice softened. "Thalia, please, just do this for me. I need to be sure that I'll always have someone in this world that I'll be able to trust."

They stood, facing each other in silence until Thalia had nodded gently, her wide eyes the only indicator of her concern. "What do you want to do?" she asked tentatively.

He had stood a moment, thinking, before he met her gaze again.

"Blood oath," he decided quietly. "It doesn't hold as much power or consequence as a swear on the Styx, but it will hold meaning. For us."

"_Blood_ oath?" Thalia repeated. "Sounds ominous."

"It's not. Just a little cut and exchanging of blood to seal our promise."

"Alright," Thalia had said doubtfully as Luke drew his knife. "Though I don't know if creating open wounds is the best idea…"

"We'll be fine." Luke had smiled at her again, but her returned smile was more than a little hesitant. He brought the knife to his palm and smoothly cut a shallow wound in his hand. Thalia saw his jaw tighten, but that was his only reaction. She watched transfixed at the small beads of blood that welled up from the scratch. Silently, Luke held the knife out to her. Thalia stared at it. The blade glittered in the light of the rising moon, and Thalia couldn't tell if the red on its one edge was really there or just a figment of her imagination. Shaking her head in defeat, she looked away from Luke and the knife.

"You do it." Thalia thrust her right hand out to him, not trusting herself to look at his face. "I don't' think I can cut my own hand." She bit her lip as she felt Luke gently take her hand.

"Thalia." His voice was soothing. "Look at me." With some effort, she wrenched her gaze to meet his. His ice blue eyes were calm as he looked at her. "It'll be fine." Thalia felt the smooth metal touch her palm and scrunched her eyes up as she felt the blade slice apart her flesh. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to whimper at the pain, but her eyes watered of their own accord.

Quickly, Luke had pressed their bleeding palms together and gripped her hand in his own. For a moment, they stood there, just staring at each other, their hands intertwined, until Luke began.

"Thalia," he had said seriously, and even though he was only thirteen at the time he looked so _grown up_ right then. "I promise that I'll never betray your trust, and that I will always be there for you." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and looked her in the eye. "I promise that we'll always be friends," he finished, and smiled at her, that impossible, irresistible, _Luke_ smile that reached all the way to his eyes and made her feel all warm inside. Instantly, she felt herself relax and had smiled back at him.

"I promise that I'll always have your back, no matter what," she had told him, holding his gaze and his hand, "and that I will never betray you either. You're my best friend, Luke," she had said earnestly. "You're all I have."

Luke had relinquished his hold on her hand and had pulled her into a hug.

"You're all I have, too," he had murmured into her hair. "And I'm never going to let you down."

**

Thalia ripped the knife out of the ground only to jam it back in again with even more force.

"But you did, didn't you," she muttered angrily at the celestial bronze blade. "You went and let me down, you let Annabeth down, you let the whole damn planet down." She released the blade again and flipped her palm upward, tracing the knife scar. "I'll never forgive you for that, Luke," she murmured softly. "Betrayal cuts deeper than any knife, and our flimsy promise obviously holds no weight to you anymore." Her eyes filled with water and she furiously blinked back the tears.

_No_, she scolded herself. _You are_ not _going to cry over him. Even if you weren't sworn to chasteness, he isn't worth your tears_.

"Thalia."

In a split second, Thalia had yanked her knife out of the ground and whirled around to face the owner of the voice. A young girl with auburn hair and silver eyes looked at her violent stance impassively. Immediately, Thalia's arms dropped to her sides and she bowed her head respectfully.

"My lady." Thalia looked up at the girl, hoping that her face showed no sign of the tears that might have been.

Artemis approached her Hunter, her face revealing nothing.

"The Hunters grow restless without your presence. You were gone to long without reason and with orders to not be followed." The goddess tilted her head and studied the demigod before her. "Something troubles you, my lieutenant."

Thalia hesitated. It was never a good idea to lie to an Olympian, yet something told her telling the truth would not garner any sympathy from the maiden goddess.

"Just thinking, I guess," she said at last, "about what could have happened if things were different."

Artemis just blinked once, slowly, as if urging her to continue.

"It's just—the boy who fell at Mount Tam," Thalia went on, her voice barely above a whisper. "He was...we were...we used to be friends. And I guess—I guess I can't help wishing that things had been different so he couldn't have gotten caught up in this mess with Kronos in the first place." Thalia looked away from the goddess with shame. Telling Artemis that she was thinking about a boy was probably not the smartest move.

"I see," the auburn haired goddess mused quietly, and looked away thoughtfully.

They stood there in silence, the girl and the goddess, Thalia fidgeting awkwardly and avoiding lifting her gaze and Artemis seemingly lost in thought. As the silence stretched on, Thalia's hopes sank as she braced herself on getting kicked out of the Hunters barely a month after she had joined. The thought caused her to wince: that would mean there would be nothing keeping her from turning sixteen, and then the prophecy could very well be about her again. Caught in her thoughts, Thalia did not see the goddess turn her strange silver gaze back to her lieutenant.

"There was a hunter," the goddess said suddenly, and Thalia jumped at the sound of her voice. Artemis ignored the movement as if her Hunter had done nothing, but seemed to be choosing her words carefully as she continued, "whose skill was beyond any I had ever seen. He was unlike other men in both strength and disposition, and he was the only man ever to have the privilege of being my companion." She looked up at the heavens and the constellations above were reflected in her gaze. "After I...after he died, I put his form in the sky in the memory of my friend. I have not known the company of men since then," she added, looking directly at Thalia, "but I will never forget him." She paused. "It is no sin to think of your friends, Thalia," she said, but then her eyes flashed. "However, if you are thinking of this Luke boy as more than a friend…" She trailed off and Thalia stiffened.

_Here it comes_, she thought grimly as she prepared herself the inevitable. Artemis rested her hand on Thalia's shoulder and looked straight into her eyes.

"Sister, remember that sometimes you cannot control what you feel. What makes you a Hunter is the strength and desire to resist."

Thalia was startled for a moment, then as is began to register that she was not going to get kicked out of the Hunters, at least not that night, she nodded once in assent and the corners of her lips curved up in a small smile.

"Thank you, Lady Artemis."

The moon goddess nodded once, curtly, and looked up at the moon again, her eyes narrowing as she judged its position in the sky.

"Come," she beckoned. "Your sisters are restless. The Hunt is about to begin."

Thalia head dipped in agreement. "Yes, my lady."

Artemis turned her back to her lieutenant and began walking back to the rest of her Hunters. Before she followed, Thalia took one last look at the sky. The moon hung heavy in it, its surface pitted with vast craters, blemishes upon its face that made it what it was. She knew that somewhere, a boy with cold blue eyes and a scarred face was under that same sight.

She did not know that boy.

The Luke whose face had been unmarked and whose blue eyes used to smile at with all the warmth of the sun; that had been the Luke she knew. That had been the Luke she loved. The Luke she lost forever, in more ways than one.

The scar he had left on her heart throbbed, and she smiled sadly as she turned away to follow her goddess.

"Goodbye Luke," she whispered to herself, and then walked back to her family, not once looking back.

_Fin_


End file.
